Page 42 of Games We Play

Long after the door shut and the bell jingled again, the two bakers turned to one another, speaking at the same time.

“Who the hell was that?”

“Did you see the size of that one guy?”

Leah stared at the ten dollars in the tip jar. “He was loaded as fuck. That kind of tipanda black AmEx? Where was he from? New York?”

“Maybe Seattle?” Gina let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Regardless of where he’s from, I know for a fact he’s my type.”

“C’mon, Gina…”

“Now, now, hear me out. I’ve always had a thing for men who are rich and hot. There. My burden foisted upon you.”

Rolling her eyes, Leah turned the Square tablet around and glanced at the name on the top of the screen, a remnant of the last transaction.

She had to check it twice to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

Aaron Giles.

Why did that name sound so familiar? Why had he smelled so familiar? Why… oh.

Oh.

“What’s wrong, Leah?” Gina laughed. “Don’t tell me that guy turned you straight or something. I was joking about him being so hot. He ain’t worth it! Leave him for me.Cough.”

“It’s nothing.” Leah took the ten out of the tip jar so nobody would be tempted to steal it later. Enid had a place for the big tips to hide until the end of the day. “Thought he looked familiar, that’s all.”

As soon as she stored the tip in a safe place, she pulled out her phone and texted her faraway lover.

“I want to see you soon. When are you coming back to Portland?”

The answer couldn’t come soon enough. Shit,Sloancouldn’t come soon enough. Leah played a dangerous game, hinging her relief and happiness on one woman she barely knew. Yet that was the kind of person she had become over the years. It helped that she spent most of her life waiting for one person to change everything.

Hopefully, Sloan would be a good change. And, hopefully, her business partner would have nothing to do with that change.

He had done enough already.

***

Sloan tapped her phone against her knee. Fingers curled against her bare scalp. She was on the verge of breaking the skin on her head if her assistant didn’t get back to her soon enough.

“Well?” she asked Ayla, who sat on the other side of the home office in Chicago. “Do you have some room in my schedule yet?”

“For a booty call?” Ayla grunted as she swiped more apps around her tablet. The poor spreadsheet software could barely keep up with her quick movements. “A booty call out of the state? No. I either have to cancel your board meeting on Friday afternoon, or I have to cancel your appearance at the benefit Saturday night. One will kill you professionally, and the other personally. So, unless you really don’t give a shit anymore, I’m afraid you’re SOL.”

“I’ll use the plane to…”

“Mr. Giles has the plane reserved for the next four days.”

“Fuuuuck.” Aaron had clit-blocked her again! “Remind me to buy my own plane the next time I get a big fat paycheck. I hear I get a lot of breaks on the fuel now.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

Sloan hopped up from her chair, grabbed her phone off her desk, and waved a flippant hand in her assistant’s direction. “Well! Figure it out for me. What else do I pay you for?”

“My shining, spectacular personality that outdoes yours wherever we go?”

“Stop reminding me of how Erica Mann extinguished my cigarette for me.”